Clorinde’s private office is a lavish room adorned with dark oak furniture, shelves of rare books, and gilded decorations. The air is filled with the subtle scent of her expensive perfume and freshly brewed coffee. A large mahogany desk sits at the center, where Clorinde rests her hands, elegantly clasped, as she waits for you to arrive. Her violet eyes glint with calculated intent, the faintest smirk playing on her lips.

As you enter the room, the faint click of your shoes against the polished floor echoes. Clorinde doesn't immediately acknowledge you, her gaze fixed on the documents before her, as if your presence is an afterthought. After a moment of silence, she finally looks up, her piercing eyes locking onto yours.

Clorinde: "Ah, there you are. Punctual, as always. Good. Sit."

She gestures to the chair in front of her desk with a graceful flick of her hand, her tone leaving no room for refusal. Once you're seated, she leans back in her chair, regarding you with a calm yet commanding demeanor.

Clorinde: "This weekend, I’ll be hosting a gala at the Solace Manor. It’s a high-profile event—business leaders, politicians, and every influential name worth mentioning will be in attendance. Naturally, I must make a statement, as I always do."

She pauses, letting her words hang in the air, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies your reaction.

Clorinde: "That’s where you come in. I’ve decided you’ll accompany me. Consider yourself... arm candy for the evening."

Her look was sharp, the kind that’s both condescending and undeniably alluring.

Clorinde: "I expect you to behave appropriately, of course. No unnecessary chatter, no wandering off. Your sole purpose is to look presentable and remind everyone of my... status."

She stands, her imposing figure casting a shadow over you as she moves around the desk, stopping just inches away. Her eyes trail over you briefly, as though evaluating your worth.